


Not Fooled For a Second

by SweetTeaFrances



Category: Hunters (TV 2020)
Genre: BAMF Ruth, Canonical Character Death, Female Jewish Character, Fix-It, Holocaust, Spoilers for Episode 10, The Hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:42:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23405476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetTeaFrances/pseuds/SweetTeaFrances
Summary: When Ruth comes to Meyer after seeing a Nazi at the market, she immediately senses that things are not as they should be.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	Not Fooled For a Second

**Author's Note:**

> I don't care if thirty years have passed, there's no way Ruth wouldn't see right through The Wolf's charade. And the show implies that they worked together on the Hunt for a year after that first meeting and she never suspected a thing? I call bullshit.
> 
> I'm using a lot of dialogue straight from the show, so credit where credit is due, but I'm mixing it up a bit. I gave some of the lines that Jonah gets when he confronts Zuchs to Ruth because for my plotline it makes more sense.

“I wouldn’t have come if I had anywhere else to go.” Ruth smiles but it comes out a little self-deprecating. 

“I am delighted that you’re here. Thirty years and here you are.” Meyer adjusts his glasses and looks at her with warmth. But Ruth only nods, uncomfortable. She looks around at the large room they’re sitting in. Stacks of books line the walls and the desk behind them is probably worth enough to pay for the rent on her apartment for the next three months.

“You know, it’s one of the horrors of war, the way you remember people.” Ruth starts to speak, looking him in the eye. Meyer deflates a bit but keeps smiling. “For me, I lost all the photographs of my father and my mother. They’re reduced to little memories now.” She pinches her fingers together and frowns. “Just his chin and her eyelashes.”

“A freckle...my mother. I can see just her freckle,” Meyer tells her.

“But you…” Ruth points at him with a sharp jab and leans forward. They’re still sitting on opposite ends of his opulent couch, but she squints at him, examining his face. “You, I thought I could never forget. And somehow you look...You look different than I remember.”

Meyer is looking down at the floor when he speaks. “We got old, Ruth.”

“We did,” she agrees.

“We got tired.”

“That’s true.”

“We’ve changed.”

Ruth squints at him again. This time there’s an accusation on her face. “What a thing. What a thing.”

“I’ve been seeing this. My awful handiwork, yeah?” Ruth watches Meyer as he tries to ignore her stare and change the topic. He leans forward and reaches for her left hand but she pulls it just far enough away that they don’t actually touch. The sleeve of her suit jacket has risen up and her numbered tattoo is visible on her arm. She looks down at it as well.

“Yes, your awful handiwork. It extends beyond the ink and deeper than the skin, Meyer,” she says with a shake of her head. She gestures towards him with her tattooed arm and leans forward again.

“I often thought about this day, because I had so many things I wanted to say to you. And now I’m here. And it’s hard for me to…” Ruth wets her lips, looks down, then rallies. “I felt such sadness when you left, because of what you thought that creature made you do. But just a letter and a necklace?”

She leans farther into his space now, aggressive. He covers his face with his hand, wiping it across his forehead. She measures him up and issues a challenge. “Why couldn’t you share your grief with me?”

“I wanted to, but, uh…” Meyer gestures between them, looking a bit helpless. “If we shared the weight… I don’t know, it would somehow feel heavier.”

Ruth can’t bring herself to believe him. There was something in his eyes but she couldn’t be positive. They were old, yes. But the eyes, they never change. 

“When Naomi was born, our beautiful daughter...” Ruth stops for a moment to collect herself before she continues, her voice hard as she struggles to hold back tears. “She was yours. How could you have left? I lived through the war too, Meyer. Why was I left to raise her alone?”

“Ruth, please, please.” He can’t look at her. There’s shame on his face but there’s something off about it. She presses him harder.

“And when she died, why didn’t you come for me?”

“Because you know the things I’ve done,” he cries in exasperation.

“Yes, I know the things that you’ve done for me, Meyer.” She spits out the name. “To save my life, I know the things that were done.” 

There’s a hint of uneasiness in his expression. But she ignores him and continues on her tirade.

“And, my grandson, Jonah, he looks like his grandfather, you know. Not the hair, or the eyes, but he has the light. He has the light that the love of my life once had.” Meyer truly looks up now and is measuring her words. He seems to be noticing the change in them. Her voice is fierce as she goes on, her lips curling in disgust. “I won’t let anyone extinguish that light. Not like they did to my Meyer.” 

Ruth pauses, purses her lips, and glares at him. “What a big room this is. What a big, empty, room.” It is an accusation and maybe a curse. She examines the books, the coffee table in front of them, the desk behind him, the small bar that’s set up next to it. He follows her gaze and stands up.

“A drink?” he offers, already reaching for the decanter, reaching for a distraction.

“Mmm,” Ruth hums and he takes it as a yes. While he’s turned away from her, she reflects. When he holds out the glass to her, she stands to take it. Then she issues her final challenge but with a soft voice that disguises its intent.

“Tell me, do you still have the same nightmare?”

He pauses for a beat too long and takes a sip of his whiskey to hide it. “It was a long time ago.”

“It was. But I still have mine. Remind me, what was yours about?”

“Ruth,” he chides, looking away once again.

“You had the same nightmare every night. You must remember that. It was something about the Wolf.” She gives him the hint to see where he takes it.

“That man, that creature. He haunted us through the camps. I dreamed of killing him,” he says but it sounds like a guess and they both know it.

“In your dream, did you say the Kaddish for him?”

He looks confused. “A beast like that deserves a prayer?”

“‘It’s the monsters among us who deserve prayer most of all,’” Ruth quotes the words that Meyer told her all those years ago. She has moved away from him now, the desk to her back.

“Who said that?”

“You. You said that.” Ruth shakes her head, tears threatening to spill over.

“I said that?” The man before her clears his throat and tries to recover. He takes a step closer to her, putting down his drink. “Well, of course, yes…” he tries, clearing his throat.

“It’s you,” Ruth whispers, her voice shaking.

“What?” He looks up, voice growing sharper.

“You’re him. You’re…” She trails off and he finally sighs. With a nonchalant shrug, he finishes her sentence.

“Wilhelm Zuchs. The Wolf.”

“How? How did you do it? Tell me!” Ruth can’t help but shout the last words.

“The Soviets were going to hang me. I found a way to get out of the cell. But I needed the papers to escape, so I snuck into the tent…” Zuchs gestures vaguely but Ruth is furious now.

“And you killed him? Is that what you were going to say? You killed him, right? Say it. Say it!”

“Yes, I killed him,” Zuchs shouts back. “Right where he slept. I took him outside to the woods, and I buried him there. I left you his necklace. And I wrote you a note, as him, as Meyer, that I couldn’t be with you anymore because of the eleven men that I killed.”

“That he killed. That he killed because of you.”

“Yes.”

“That is why he left that day. But he didn’t really leave.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks now. “How, how did you steal his face?”

“I managed to escape to Berlin. But on the streets, a survivor recognized me and started to scream. I got away, but I knew… The name of Meyer was not going to be enough. I had to do something else. I had to become him. I went to an SS surgeon. I transferred to this man my entire savings, and he gave me a mask, which is what you see today.”

Ruth is crying openly and brings one hand to cover her mouth. Her face is frozen in horror.

“I would’ve thought that time would be enough to fool you. I thought we’d both changed enough by now. How did you know?”

“Your eyes,” she says. “His were never so calculating.”

“I see,” he replies calmly. “So the dream was a test. Was it real?”

Ruth ignores his question and instead begins to recite the Kaddish. Her voice is emotionless as she intones the words. He seems bewildered for a moment before he reacts.

“Stop!” he barks at her but she doesn’t pause. The words keep flowing. Zuchs marches towards her, intent on stopping her. The Wolf starts to pull a weapon from his pocket, but Ruth has her fist clenched around a sharp letter opener that she snuck into her hand while he still had a drink in his. And now he is within arm’s reach.

She drives the blade into his chest with all her strength. The prayer is over.

“In my Meyer’s dream, he said the Kaddish for you before he killed you. And now I have done the same,” she says with finality.

His hands rise to meet hers around the blade and he clutches at the wound. He opens his mouth but instead of words, blood comes pouring out. A moment later, his treacherous eyes grow dim. His body goes limp and his weight pulls him down. The blade slides out of his lifeless body and he falls to the ground before Ruth.

She looks at the instrument in her hand and sees now that it was not a letter opener but a gold hued knife. On the base of the blade is a small swastika, barely noticeable, and there’s shallow etching on the handle. But she recognizes the familiar German words.

“Blut und Ehre.” Blood and Honor.

“Amen,” she says to the dead man at her feet, finishing her prayer. She spits on him and walks out, knife still in her hand.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a one-off to get the idea out of my head and into the world. I'm thinking of continuing the concept of Ruth leading the Hunt without "Meyer" and bringing Jonah in from the beginning, but I'm honestly not sure if I'm up for the commitment that story would require since it would basically mean rewriting the entire show. I'm marking this down as a "complete" but that status will change if I decide to continue with the concept.
> 
> Anyways, if you enjoyed this, give a girl some kudos and leave comments. They make me so happy to see.


End file.
